Episode 4 Nigella: At My Table

This is very delicious.

'A table is more than a piece of furniture,

'just as food is more than mere fuel.'

When I moved into my first home many years ago,

before I did anything else, I bought a table, and not just to eat at,

but to live around.

-Chin-chin, amici!

-Chin-chin, everybody!

-Cheers.

'At my table, when I'm winding down at the end of a long day...'

They're ready for me, and I'm ready for them!

'..celebrating friendship at weekend feasts, or making memories with family...

'..the food I eat is vibrant and varied...

'..but always relaxed.

'Old favourites...'

So far, so good!

'..and fresh discoveries.'

I need to be alone with my sandwich now.

'The comfort of the familiar combined with the exuberance of the new.'

Oh! I can hear how good this is going to be.

'The essential, welcoming taste of home.'

There's no elegant way to eat them, and that's in their favour.

Whether I'm pottering about at the stove or sitting at the table,

I want pleasure, I want flavour and I want ease.

Life can be complicated. Cooking doesn't have to be.

Any morning that starts off with my tomato and fried bread hash

is a good one, as far as I'm concerned.

I've got a couple of slices cut from a bloomer here,

which I am now just cutting into chunky cubes.

I've got some olive oil in here.

I mean, just regular olive oil, not extra virgin.

I'm going to turn the bread in the pan a bit,

because what I want is for the cubes to become golden all over.

Oh, and they will be so wonderful and resoundingly crunchy when they're done!

How long the cubes of bread take to get golden will depend, really,

on how fresh or stale the bread is.

Either way, it's fine.

Let them fall on a bit of kitchen towel.

I'm going to leave the pan off the heat while I chop a banana shallot -

my secret weapon in the kitchen.

Aiming for fine half-moons, but knife skills I don't possess,

so some will be fine...

..some a bit chunky.

In they go.

I'm going to sprinkle some salt over the shallots.

I do this whenever I fry onions or shallots,

when I don't want them to burn at all

because the salt makes the onions give out a little bit of water.

I want them soft and golden, even a bit caramelised in places,

but not burnt.

Oh!

And while those cook, I'm going to chop up a few tomatoes.

When I was at university, fried bread with tinned tomatoes

was the Friday special in the college canteen.

And while I love a fried slice - I won't hear a word against it -

I've always been a bit troubled by the pairing with tinned tomatoes.

So I go for fresh ones instead.

And I completely forgot the garlic.

How could I?

Because I want the oomph from some minced garlic.

So, the shallots are soft and golden in places.

Time for the tomatoes.

They spit a bit because of the liquid, but that's fine.

So, pepper.

Good grinding.

Worcester sauce.

A must.

And I'm going to snip in some chives using my sewing scissors.

Everything looks ready there.

Mm!

More than ready. Tumble these bronze and crisp cubes in.

Just tossing it together so that everything is combined, and oh!

I can hear how good this is going to be.

So now, ready to plate up.

With slightly frenzied haste!

Utterly understandable, under the circs.

Want every bit.

And a final sprinkling of chives. I mean,

this is really excellent when you need to absorb excess alcohol,

obviously not the case now,

which makes me realise why they had it in the college canteen.

I'm making a bit of a vegan feast tonight.

And I know it sounds odd, coming from a meat eater,

but I really love cooking vegan food.

It's like painting with a fresh palette.

So, when my friends come round later,

I'm giving them a vibrant butternut and sweet potato curry,

which I serve with black rice and a green, green,

green sauce made of coriander, chillies and garlic.

And for pudding, I've got something I call lemon tender cake,

which comes with a blueberry compote.

-This is very delicious.

-Yeah.

-It is very delicious.

Actually, the inspiration for the cake comes from my travels.

When I was in Kansas City a couple of years back,

I went into a cafe there and had the most wonderful mini lemon bunt cakes.

And yes, I do take a photograph of everything I eat.

In fact, I ate a lot of them because I had very serious research to do.

So, when I got back home, I played with the recipe

and came up with this.

Starting off with 225g of plain flour,

I add one and a half teaspoons of baking powder

and half a teaspoon of bicarb,

then finally a quarter of a teaspoon of salt.

And just fork them together.

That's the dry ingredients done.

And now into a batter jug goes 275g of coconut milk.

I spoon the thick bit out first, then pour in the liquid.

To this I add 150g of caster sugar.

I now need 150ml of vegetable oil...

..and a teaspoon of vanilla extract.

I finally grate in the fragrant zest of two lemons.

I also need three tablespoons of juice,

which is about one lemon's worth.

Then I just stir to mix.

And now it's just a matter of adding the wet ingredients to the dry.

I do realise it all goes a bit greige at this point.

I suppose, if you're unused to making eggless cakes,

you do miss the goldenness of the yolks, but do not fear.

This is one sensational cake once it's baked.

Pour the batter into a 20cm springform tin

and give it about 30 minutes in an oven at 180 degrees.

The cake is baked, and it can sit here calmly while I equally serenely

get on with my blueberry compote.

I've got 150g of blueberries.

And I want a tablespoon of caster sugar.

And now the same amount of lemon juice.

Going to have to hope I don't get pips when I do this

cos I'm squeezing straight onto the spoon.

My lucky day!

Finally, into the pan, before it goes on the heat, 50ml of cold water.

Let's give it a bit of a swirl to let the sugar dissolve.

And now on the heat.

So, this needs to come to a bubble now, which won't take long.

And these garnet glossy juices need to be thickened.

And for that, I need some cornflour.

A small amount. Just a teaspoon and a half.

And exactly the same amount of cold water to slake it.

The blueberries have started to soften now,

so I don't need to cook them any further.

I just need to thicken them, adding my cornflour and water.

This will take the barest moment.

And just like that,

my beaded berry glaze is ready.

Mm! Look at this. The colour of 1940s nail varnish,

and just as glossy.

I'll leave this to cool and thicken

and top the cake with it just at the very last moment.

I need some bits and pieces for my curry tonight.

And this being a butternut and sweet potato curry,

there are no prizes for guessing what I'm going to get.

So, let's... Butternut, sweet potato.

I think I need to get another one.

Now, you can use ground turmeric in this curry.

But what really makes the difference for me is using this fresh turmeric,

these little rhizomes,

and you can see they've got quite a tender pinky orangey-ness

that's peeking through the skin.

Once you've peeled them, they are so intensely orange, though.

Very, very bright.

I have to say, that intense orangey-ness does get everywhere.

So, before I start, I peel the turmeric, just using a teaspoon,

and then chop it up and I leave it in a bowl,

ready for all the other paste ingredients.

To the turmeric I add roughly chopped red onion and chillies.

Then I slice fresh ginger and pop that in too.

Next, I chop some garlic and add that as well.

And then onto the dried spices.

First, coriander and then a little cinnamon.

Finally, I sprinkle in sea salt and all that remains for me to do is

blitz everything together.

Glorious!

And now I need this rambunctiously vibrant paste to make

my rambunctiously vibrant curry.

Now, whenever you cook with turmeric,

you must never use a wooden spoon unless you don't mind it getting stained.

And here's one I stained earlier.

In fact, I've stained quite a few in my time.

I just want to cook the paste a teeny bit, let it soften.

No more than that.

Now, good cans of coconut milk separate into a thick part on top

and a watery part underneath.

And it's the thick part I want in now.

And the rich creaminess of the coconut milk is so wonderful against

the fierceness of onion and chilli, garlic and turmeric.

Cooking, like the rest of life, is all about balance.

On that note, I'm going to add the rest of the coconut milk.

And you can see it is quite watery.

And now some vegetable stock, and that's to say

hot water and vegetable stock granules.

Just to thin it a bit.

The coconut milk, the butternut squash and the sweet potatoes ARE sweet,

and I want to add a note of acidity with these canned tomatoes.

All that remains to be done...

..is for me to add the butternut squash and the sweet potato.

I'm going to drop them in very gently,

otherwise I'll get splattered with orange.

Might do anyway.

And while caution was a wise plan,

my impatience is getting the better of me

and I'm just going to add the rest now.

And this now needs to come to the boil.

Now, I'm serving rice with it.

Let me show you. It's this.

Black Venus Rice from Italy.

Because I just adore the drama of the black rice

against the orange curry.

I mean, you can serve whatever rice you want.

I'm going to leave this to cook at a simmer with the lid on.

I'll get on with my green sauce and then just put it in a bowl to go out

on the table, and people can just dollop spoonfuls on their bowls of curry as they eat.

To make this coriander and jalapeno salsa,

I tear up an entire bunch of coriander.

I want the stalks as well.

Then I add roughly chopped fresh green jalapeno peppers.

Now some roughly chopped garlic

and a good sprinkling of sea salt.

I pour over vegetable oil then finely grate a couple of limes.

Then my old favourite, Mexican Elbow, comes into play.

And I squeeze the juice into the bowl, and now I simply blitz to mix.

Hello!

BIRMINGHAM ACCENT: I have curry! Curry!

-Right, I'm ready, I'll ladle.

-That looks good!

School meals want to have a ladle.

Ooh! Look at that.

One spoonful or two spoonfuls of the sauce?

Um... I think one, and people can add more as they need.

-Yes, you can splodge. You can splodge.

-Oh, it's a splodge, yes.

Please, sir, can I have some more?

-OK, chin-chin, amici!

-Chin-chin, everybody!

-Buon appetito!

-Cheers.

-Thank you.

No, no, no! It can be a very comforting version.

-The only thing you can eat out of a bowl is comforting.

-Yeah.

And you see yourself making this, Matthew?

Have you finished your bowl already, Lisa?

-Yes, I'm ready for the next!

-LAUGHTER

Well, I'm very excited about pudding, and this won't take long.

So, unclip the cake.

And turn it out here.

And now the unveiling!

Before the compote goes on the cake,

I'm going to slather it with this coconut milk yoghurt.

I've got 250g here.

Such a cooling balm after the peppiness of the salsa-spiked curry.

I need to add a couple of things.

First some vanilla, just a teaspoon.

Stir that in quickly.

Not too quickly.

I love this.

And then some icing sugar.

I've got two and a half teaspoons here.

I'll push it through the tea strainer.

Don't want any lumps.

And now I shall spoon the sweetly vanilla-scented coconut milk yoghurt

over the upended cake.

And the yoghurt on it like this makes every mouthful taste even softer,

lighter and fluffier.

If any yoghurt starts to creep down the side of the cake,

don't worry about it. I mean, I think it looks rather charming.

And now my compote.

I'm going to thrash it a bit with a fork, just to help it spread on.

And then, with this incredibly white yoghurt serving as a frame,

I'm going to dollop this in the middle.

It's all looking a bit 1970s, but I rather like that.

Thank you very much.

GENERAL CHATTER

Now, this looks delicious!

OK, everyone's ignoring me!

I'm not. I'm already passing my plate down.

-Of course you are!

-Exactly, in anticipation.

-So this is... Maria is obviously always first, is always first.

-So what is it? What is that?

-The pudding is my favourite thing.

-I might not tell you, I might leave that as a bit of a secret.

Is that one of the small or the big slices?

I don't know. The first one is really difficult to tell, isn't it?

-The first cut is the deepest.

-Oh, beautifully done!

-Mm!

-Oh, delicious!

Oh, my God!

This is fantastic!

It's very good, I must say!

This is very delicious.

It is very delicious.

As you know, I'm not a pudding person.

-Pudding's my absolute favourite.

-Really?

-It's all she really wants to eat!

-That's all I want to eat.

I'm very happy to say a big bowl of pasta lies on the horizon.

And I'm after a short, sturdy shape.

Now, these I love.

I have to have these at home. They're called Radiatori.

Why anyone had the idea to make a pasta shape modelled on a radiator,

I don't know, but it works really well.

Ah! These...I had to get these. I was rather entranced by them,

but I haven't used them yet. They're called Fidanzati Capresi.

Fidanzati means, like, you know, fiances, engaged couple, from Capri.

Look, you can see they're lovingly entwined.

And talking of family relations in pasta and entwined...

..I'm going to get these Gemelli.

Now, gemelli means twins.

And I had always presumed that this was because these were two little

strings of pasta turned around each other.

But, in fact, I have since found out that it's a single rope of pasta

twisted back on itself like a helicoidal twist, I'll have you know.

Right, the Gemelli are in. I'll get started with the sauce.

It's a sauce of anchovies, tomato and mascarpone.

And it is full of zesty flavour.

I do need to say a word about anchovies,

which is that a lot of people think they don't like them because

they've had a sort of salty, rusty nail on a bad pizza.

But, in fact, think of anchovies as the bacon of the sea.

They give depth and a wonderful, savoury intensity.

So, let's just get this off the Mezzaluna.

They're pretty much a mush

because the idea is for them almost to melt into the oil.

And they're flavouring the oil so gorgeously as they cook.

The anchovies are pretty well dissolved in the oil.

So, now a bit more pep and brio.

Fat clove of garlic first.

And more heat with some dried red chilli flakes.

A semi-stir,

and then some cherry tomatoes. I just halve them across the equator.

These won't take very long

to start exuding all their gloopy tomato-ness

into the flavoured oil, but while I wait,

cos I don't like waiting, I'm going to chop a bit of parsley.

Right, let's see how these little tomatoes are doing.

You can see that their skin has started to sag and wrinkle a bit.

Don't I know how they feel!

So, time to add some Vermouth, and I know I should say Ver-MOOTH,

but I've had a lifetime of mispronouncing it,

too late to change.

So cheering when it starts bubbling up,

and you can see that the tomatoes,

aided and abetted by the chilli flakes,

have turned the liquid a vibrant orange.

And it's the insides of the tomatoes that will thicken this,

as well as a bit of bubbling away.

And now that's done.

Got some mascarpone, which mellows it,

but actually there's a great tang to mascarpone, which I like.

The sauce is the colour of tinned tomato soup!

Doesn't taste like that.

And now some Parmesan.

And I know, traditionally,

Italians would never really add Parmesan to any pasta sauce

that either has fish in it or is very chillified and garlicky,

but, you know, this isn't an Italian recipe.

It's londinese.

Now I just need a sprinkle of parsley.

If you're going to drain your pasta, remove a cupful of the liquid first,

but I won't need to like this.

So I'm just going to lift it into the wok.

You can see how the Gemelli have swollen.

They looked so teeny before.

It's a scant sauce, but a very highly-flavoured one.

And that's it ready, near instant.

I love its salty, creamy tanginess.

Inside, I'm telling myself to stop, but I'm ignoring that direction.

Final bit of parsley.

That's just what I need.